


My Love, My Love, My Love

by killingsaray



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Anniversary, Dance With Me Eve!, F/F, Season 3 Finale?, Season 3 Opener?, You Decide, soft shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 08:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23348356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingsaray/pseuds/killingsaray
Summary: “If you were talking to me,” Villanelle said, flipping the sausages and drizzling more honey on them, “would you tell me if it tasted good?”“ If I were talking to you, I would say it was delicious.”Villanelle smiled to herself.“But I’m not, so I won’t.”ORThe anniversary drabble where Eve is mad and Villanelle is too cute to resist.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 15
Kudos: 241





	My Love, My Love, My Love

_Eve was mad_. 

Like she slept in her home office and hadn’t planned to talk to Villanelle for twenty-four hours _mad_. And she had every right to be. Villanelle had taken an assignment at the last minute and had promised to be back in time for their anniversary dinner. But there had been a… complication.

The fact that Villanelle had been grazed by a bullet hadn’t smoothed things over at all. It made Eve angrier when she showed up to the sunset patio dinner on a stolen motorcycle, bleeding through the expensive black Tom Ford suit she’d worn to their wedding, clutching flowers that had been crushed by whatever the fuck she’d been doing all night.

So on Sunday morning, Villanelle woke early to start cooking Eve’s favorite breakfast. She was halfway through the sausages when she felt Eve behind her. 

“I made that matcha latte you like. It is in the fridge.” Villanelle chirped. She turned to see Eve. Wild hair, right tank top, loose boxers. She’d never looked prettier to Villanelle. 

“I’m still not talking to you,” Eve said as she opened the fridge to pull out the iced drink. 

“Fine.” Villanelle shrugged a shoulder, pretending not to be hurt. “Alexa, play music so Eve does not have to talk to me.”

Somewhere in the house, the AI speaker verbally acknowledged the command before music suddenly played over their surround sound system. 

“Cute.” Eve deadpanned. She took a large swallow of the drink and closed her eyes, moaning at how perfect it was. 

“If you _were_ talking to me,” Villanelle said, flipping the sausages and drizzling more honey on them, “would you tell me if it tasted good?”

“ _If_ I were talking to you, I would say it was delicious.” 

Villanelle smiled to herself. 

“But I’m not, so I won’t.”

“Fair enough.” 

As Eve worked through her drink at the kitchen island, Villanelle began plating their food when—.

“Oh!” Villanelle cried, whipping around to face Eve while pointing in the general direction of Alexa. “Our wedding song!”

_And I can’t change_

_Even if tried_

_Even I wanted to_

Eve rolled her eyes and shook her head, finishing her matcha drink. She looked away for a moment, trying to hide her growing smile. Villanelle had clearly planned this. The blonde knew that Eve couldn’t resist their wedding song. She’d once told Villanelle that the happiest she’d ever been was dancing with Villanelle and the friends they’d made that day in Havana, on their wedding night surrounded by love and the twinkling string lights. Well… not _all love_. After all, it was Eve who stood up when the priest had said “speak now or forever hold your peace”. Because who did Villanelle think she was kidding trying to marry that gorgeous Spanish hussy?

_My love, my love, my love,_ mouthed Villanelle, reaching out for Eve’s hand.

_She keeps me warm_

_She keeps me warm_

_She keeps me warm_

“Dance with me, Eve!” She grinned, grabbing her wife’s hands. 

“I’m not talking to you.” Eve insisted through a huff of laughter.

“You don’t have to talk to dance.” She slipped an arm around Eve and pulled her body flush against her own. She twirled Eve around the room, somehow mixing the Viennese waltz with salsa and something else that Eve couldn’t quite put a name to. Possibly because it was all so genuinely… _Villanelle_ ; something she’d picked up in each of her many travels.

And even with Eve so obviously mad at her, Villanelle was doing all she could to make it… theirs.

_Love is patient_

_Love is kind_

_Love is patient_

_And love is kind_

Eve laughed as Villanelle dipped her quickly and pulled her back up, dark hair whipping across both of their faces with the momentum. With each movement, Eve could feel her frustration and anger with Villanelle slipping further and further away. 

_Not crying on Sundays_

_Not crying on Sundays_

She hated being mad at the blonde anyway. They separated long enough for Villanelle to let Eve spin her around, and then pull her back. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Villanelle said as Eve’s arms slipped around her neck. 

“I know.” 

Because Eve did know. And even though she had been a hundred miles away, Villanelle had still managed to make it to their dinner. She’d still remembered what was so special about Saturday. About last night.

“Happy anniversary,” Eve said. “I’m sorry too.”

“Happy anniversary.”

_My love, my love, my love_

_She keeps me warm_


End file.
